Ignorance is Your New Best Friend
by iclethea
Summary: "What's dead should stay dead." After a horrific accident Dean's grasping for his life, Sam and the guys try to help but tragedy strikes. How can John help his son now? And is it the right thing to do? In collaboration with Fallen Angel death. Warning: Slash Tag to 1x12 Faith
1. Prologue

Written with the Awesome best friend of mine, Fallen Angel death. :D

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**Prologue**

Life never turns out the way you plan, something always comes along and just screws everything to hell. I suppose it was faith in a way an ironic twist really, death had come knocking on my door on more than one occasion and each time I had sent that ugly skeleton packing but this time was different. Life never does go the way you plan it. My dad used to say that we were soldiers destined to set the world to rights, to stop every evil son of a bitch that crawled out from the hell hole beneath our feet, to avenge all those sorry souls and protect the innocent. I had lived by that saying my entire life whole heartily believing that we could make a difference that we would stop it all, I never really saw how wrong I was. It was going to be a long road cold and dark like the back roads Sammy and I took but there was no going back not from where I was heading, Sammy I would miss that son of a gun, I was scared too what if someone hurt him? But my Sammy could look after himself he might not look it but he really was a fighter underneath it all my boy, he would never give up always finding a way to make it all better, my little genius still though... It's dark here there's no lights I had pictured it differently, I guess the movies really are a load of shit. It's cold too so cold, freezing me to the bone an icy burn. It's impossible to see and the silence is deadly, calm too but after a few moments it begins to hurt. I was never around such emptiness before its hollow like a void eerily calm. I can't suppress a shiver it's just so cold, the memories come then Sammy, Dad, Bobby even Ellen. I'm going to miss em all of them, but no one can live forever it's a circle right but I still can't shake this fear it doesn't feel right it can't be my time yet right? There's still so much to do so many demons to put down and creatures to kill. It ain't right none of this is, I hate the quiet and the memories only hurt, I'll never see any of em ever again not Sammy's smile or Bobby's frown not even Dad's anger I miss it all and it hurts so much. I'm all alone alone... I've never been so alone. Sammy, dad I need you I need you both so much. I was taught to be strong but I can't take this nothingness this pain. My breath is the only sound and it's just not right, I'm a soldier and a hunter this ain't right I should be out there I should be helping dad and protecting Sam it's my duty my job, I can't just leave em who gonna stop Dad and Sam from hollering at each other? Who's going to take the risks and push on for a brighter future? I can't just stay here in this nothingness it's not me. A thought hits then cold and hard the truth usually is though right what if they don't need me? My breath stops loud in the quiet no... My head shakes no they do but the doubt is there they don't need me Dad was always the strong one he was the best there was better than I ever could be and Sammy, he's special not in that airy fairy way but down to the core special, what was I? I was worth nothing in comparison why would they need me? My eyes prick and it hurts it hurts worse than any punch or kick then any slap or bullet. My knees give out and there's only my heat ripping in this God Damm silence.

"Why me!" there would be no answer I know that but I still ask I still beg for someone to listen even though there's no one nothing but the cold and the dark. My fists clench I'm so sorry I failed them all I was nothing I am nothing but I had failed and failure wasn't what I was taught, you gotta win dads voice is breaking through the silence win win win that's all I ever tried to do but it's never enough it wasn't enough. So many things left unsaid I never said how much I loved Sammy I should have even if it made me sound weak and gooey he wouldn't know how much I cared, I never told dad how much he put on me how couldn't handle it all, it wasn't fair none of it was. My life had been planned out all cos of dad's God Damm obsession now look at me? I was nothing trapped here in the nothingness it was his fault all his fault. The anger is too strong I wonder how long it's been there week's months? Years? I want mom I want to see her face one more time I want to feel her just one more time it wasn't right she was just taken from me all because of Sam, Sam no it wasn't his fault but there's the doubt again he never cared it was different for him he never knew her. But I did I cold still see her face hear her laugh, but she's nothing but a memory a memory that could fade. I don't think anyone remembers dads too obsessed with this demon and Sam he is too. Sam I love you but you never cared about us you left me Sam you tried to be oh so normal and look what happened you never cared you and dad were made for each other both so heartless both so cold. My fists clench whispers have started in the silence so low but so loud yes I was the only one it had only ever been me. I'd show em I show em all they were the weak ones they left me, cowards hiding behind books and tales. They had left Dad and Sammy not Bobby though no Bobby had always cared, I really did love Bobby more of dad to me than my own, he had always been there during the times dad wasn't he remembered he never forgot. Bobby was strong but warm not cold and heartless, Bobby would stand by my side when I got back, oh yeah I was coming back I was going to get out of this hell hole and I would show em all no one messes with Dean and lives no one they could all go to hell, the irony of it but still.

"Dean come to me Dean come open your eyes" there's a soft wave almost like warmth spreading through my chest erasing the cold, my fingers tingle and my heart does this weird little flip. The whispers get louder but that voice cuts through it all its calm and warm and so right. My heart tugs and I find myself turning I'm drawn to it drawn to this invisible being

"Dean Come Wake up hear my voice come to me" My feet carry me and the darks fading there's this light and it's so bright but it doesn't hurt no it makes me feel whole so good and warm, my heart pounds so loud and its racing so fast I feel dizzy but I'm compelled to move towards that voice I need to go to that light. My heartbeat sounds so loud it hurts my ears and I push onwards there's this urgency now I can't shake it have to go and this strange force almost pulling me.

"Dean Come on, come to me wake up Wake up!" and I'm running so fast my heart thumping too loud and this strange feeling expanding within me. It feel almost painful but not so and I'm gasping and pushing towards that light, the darkness is closing behind me the cold breathing against my back but I run on. The warmth is burning and the pain increases but I keep going, I gasp lungs heaving as my hand reaches out to clasp the light and then there's brightness and such noise and I'm holding something firm and warm and so strong. My eyes are wide and I'm heaving as a man smile down at me

"Welcome back Dean" I can't look away room his face it's too beautiful almost unearthly there's rustling and too much noise and the warmth is still there but the pains lingering.

"Dean!" My eyes feel heavy but I manage to move em just a little bit it's too much to take in the last thing I see is Sammy's grinning face before darkness falls across my eyes but this time it ain't cold or empty its safe and warm, and there's still that hand holding me tight. There's a quiet rumbling so low I can barely hear

"He's back Dad Dean's back" then there's nothing.


	2. The Long Road

** Chapter One: The Long Road**

**Dean's POV**

It was another dark lonely night, the air thick with the stench of death and decay. A bad feeling traipsed through my gut as we neared the looming grey brick house. The cold was biting, cutting through the flimsy layers of the jacket and shirt that covered my frame. My fingers trailed to the cool metal against my hip, its familiar weight easing some of the anxiety from my bones. Still, there was that feeling. I couldn't put my finger on it, but If there was one thing dad had taught me it was to listen to my instincts.

_Your gut never lies._ It was one of the many famous quotes our father had pumped through us. My eyes trailed back and forth across the beaten down door, fingers twitching as we pushed closer. From the corner of my eye, I could make out Sammy. His lips were moving, mumbling something. God only knew what it was. It _was_ Sam after all. He put the _s_ in strange. A hint of a smile tugged my lips upwards as I nailed him the thumbs up. His annoyed frown was worth my moment of childish behavior. Cautiously, I toed the door open, the hinges squeaking from disuse as it went, meeting the wall with a hefty smack.

"Dean." I cringed. Hey it wasn't my fault, but Sammy always decided it was. Instead of responding, I swept in, checking the corners before anything else.

The smell was worse in here, overbearing. My eyes watered while my nostrils flared. Sam's muffled cough told me he hated it too. A chilling wind cut upstairs from the basement. _Damn it, not the basement why was it always the basement?_ A weak shudder threatened to overthrow me but I held firm. Inclining my head to Sammy, I stealthy made my way towards the faded oak door. Quiet whispers met my ears as the stairs creaked beneath my weight. The smell worsened, almost causing my throat to close and gag repeatedly. I swallowed shallowly, inching forwards. The coldness was a firm indicator that what we were looking for was certainly here.

My heart picked up in it's steady rhythm, the survival instinct urging me to turn back and run. As a hunter it was my job to ignore such an instinct. The feeling of something warm and firm clutching my leg had a muffled scream pressing against my lips._ Jesus Christ!_ Frightened baby blues stared up at me beneath long dark hair. A kid; it was just a kid. My heart melted a little and slowly I took a breath, calming my jumping heart.

"Sam," I breathed. I supposed kids were more his thing. Immediately he crouched down, voice conveying assurance and warmth.

"It's okay I got you." His eyes met mine in acknowledgement. Looks like I was taking this guy out on my own. _Oh well._ Hoisting her small body upwards, he gestured to the others. Wait, others? For a moment I panicked, seeing the other frightened pairs of eyes staring up at me and it took my brain a second to register that they were just scared little kids and not anything sinister or evil.

"I'll be back Dean be careful don't do anything rash," he warned, arching an eyebrow my way. Okay not cool. I was the big brother here. I didn't need Sammy telling me what to do. In response I did the most maddening thing I could do. I flipped him the finger before turning on my heel. The little shit had the gall to laugh. I kept my focus though as I heard Sammy herd the little ones out. Something wasn't right. That feeling was pressing hard now, tightening my chest and cooling my blood. Fingers gripping a reliable weight at my side, my eyes scanning the room as I advanced.

It was dark too dark, making it hard to make out anything. My eyes strained, trying and failing to see beyond the large black blobs. My breath stuttered out loudly in the eerie quiet. My heart pumped, _one, two, three, one, two, three, t_he rhythm never breaking even as the familiar tremors of anxiety trembled up my spine. The silence shifted, the lowest of sounds echoing. Oh shit.

I found myself gripping the taser tightly, my knuckles straining white beneath the trembling flesh. From the corner of my eye, I could make out something moving big and slow, turning my way. I took a breath. I could do this. I had been doing this for years, but the years never washed the primal fear and instinct to run.

It was clawing its way closer and damn it, it was a big son of a bitch. Its nostrils were flaring like crazy, the twisted face pulling into a malicious growl. I held my ground, though adrenaline was screaming through my legs, urging me to run and not look back. I crept backwards, allowing it to follow. It all depended on a single moment. Still, cold water splashed upwards as it advanced, eyes alight with hunger. _Looks like I'm next on the menu. _The chill in the room wrapped around my body in a death like hold and that feeling burned with intensity. I'ts jaw pulled back, sharp teeth glittering in the dim light. There was no time to think, only react as it lunged.

Years of practice had graced me with amazing reflexes. Mid lunge, my fingers squeezed the trigger, arm thrumming from the force of it. Satisfaction coiled in my stomach as 100,000 volts of pure electricity hit the fugly thing square in the chest. It reared back, almost like it was surprised, before it fell to the ground, dead.

My lungs burst, my heart racing from the adrenaline rush; but something was wrong. It took a split second for comprehension to dawn on me before I collapsed, body seizing in agony. My hands trembled without consent, body failing against the large puddle of water that soaked through my clothes. _Why hadn't I been more careful the damn water, I must have been stepping right in it!_

My lungs burned as my heart exploded, searing white hot, blinding pain riddling my body. My blood pounded frantically, eyes rolling as I convulsed over and over again. My heart was trembling with the strain as pure electricity sizzled through my entire being. My lips pulled back, a tortured scream coming out as nothing sort of a gurgle. My fingers furled and uncurled frantically, legs spasming without control as the pain ran rampant through my mind.

Oh God I was dying. There was no mistaking it. The pain, oh God, please make it stop. I had never felt anything so blinding before. It almost made me pray for death. Anything to stop the white hot rivers from spreading through my nerves, frying them to the bone. I tried to scream but it was only small gurgle of indescribable pain and agony.

_Make it stop!_ My heart kept on going, though screaming from the sudden intrusion. My heart was frantically trying to fight it but it was futile, nothing short of a losing battle. The pain rocketed on, causing my muscles to give one final heartfelt squeeze before slumping uselessly. My fingers still kept twitching, while my vision began to go dark. This was it. I found it ironic really. After everything I had hunted I was going to die by such mundane means. The pain still had a firm hold on my heart, the large muscle finally tiring of its fight and giving in. With a final gurgle and attempt to move, I was gone. The world around me turned into nothing but an endless dark abyss. _Sammy I'm sorry._

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**Sam's POV**

The wind was harsh and biting, cutting through my skin as the little girl clung to me. She was too cold and frail. The others were behind me, a devoted band of frightened 5 to7 year olds. Managing with some difficulty, I wrenched the Impala's door open. The warm interior was a welcome greeting and a reprieve from the cold and wretched smell. Skinny arms held tight as I ushered the others inside, stomach sinking ever so slightly. I didn't like Dean handling that raw-head alone. Call it a sixth sense, but I knew something bad was going down. I knew Dean could handle himself. He was better than any hunter I had laid my eyes on but there was something undeniably wrong about this whole night.

"Stay here" I muttered, trying to put as much authority as I could muster into my voice. I untangled the girl from my chest. She wailed, frightened blue eyes flashing with terror. I felt uncertain. I didn't have that much experience with kids, but something told me Dean would handle this a lot better. He was after all an_ all or nothing_ kind of guy.

"It's okay. I'll be right back. I just need to help my brother okay? I promise you'll be safe here." Okay, the last bit was a lie, but I couldn't exactly say that now could I? Her lip wobbled dangerously, causing my heart to clench. Oh Christ, please don't cry. I couldn't handle that right now. Fortunately for me a pair of skinny small arms reached around her.

"It's okay Sarah I'll look after you." Despite the boy's scared eyes, he held her tight, voice betraying nothing but strength. I had to give the kid credit. Smiling I nodded.

"That's right. Now stay here. I'll be back in a minute, I promise." For a moment she just stared at me, those blue depths searching. It almost felt like she was looking through me before she nodded, burying her tear streaked face into the boy behind her. His eyes met mine and those green depths said only one thing. _If you're lying there'll be trouble._ It was strange wasn't it, that I wasn't scared of vampires or demons, but one look from that kid and I felt like running. I nodded once before jogging towards the house. My heart was beating ninety as I neared. There was silence. The sound had my gut sinking and my pulse racing. Something was defiantly wrong.

"Dean." My voice echoed eerily back at me. No answer, not even a whisper. My throat closed, fear clawing at my stomach. No everything was alright, but the sinking feeling of dread curled around me in a choking embrace. Stealthily, I made my way down the basement stairs. The wood creaked loudly beneath my feet and for a moment I feared it would break. The wretched stench of burning filled my nose, causing my nostrils to flare and my eyes to water. The urge to gag was overwhelming but I swallowed it down. Dean would never let up if I puked. My eyes took a second to adjust to the dark, the sharp sounds of sizzling ringing through my ears. My fingers toyed against my waist, the familiar weight of the taser a reassuring warmth.

"Dean" I tried again, edging closer. My feet met water, cold and dark, soaking my legs and feet in seconds. A shudder worked its way up my spine._ Don't look,_ my mind told me, but on auto pilot, I took a step, only to meet something hard, warm and still. My breath caught in my throat. Oh God no. The evidence, though couldn't be denied. I dropped to my knees, my jeans instantly soaked through, cold water pressing insistently against my legs. My fingers reached out, cautious, shaking slightly as my heart froze. Unblinking hazel green met my vision as my fingers closed against Dean's still arm. He was still warm, but there was no movement.

"Dean." I whispered, not believing what was so undeniably true. There was no response._ No, no._ My fingers frantically shook him, eyes stinging. No.

"Dean, you can't be dead. You're my big brother, my protector. Nothing can hurt you." The tears left a sticky trail down my cheeks as I clutched him tight. My heart was aching and ripping, the pain... It hurt too much. _No... not Dean, anyone but Dean. Take me instead!_ My eyes roamed, taking in his face. No, I couldn't let him go! Gently, I cradled him to me, rocking slightly as the sobs pulled from my lips, loud and fierce in the stillness.

"No Dean. You're not gonna leave me! You hear me!" I pressed him down on the wet ground. My fingers drifted to his chest and interlocking. I wasn't going to let him go. I couldn't,_ I wouldn't._

"Breathe Dean!" I pressed down, hands pumping against his chest. _One, two, three._ I needed him to fight. I needed him to not give up.

"Come on Dean," I whispered, tears falling freely against his shirt. I bared down, pushing as much strength as I could into my hands. After the final count of thirty, I opened his mouth. It was weird, but screw it. I was saving my brother. I pressed my mouth to his, breathing as much oxygen as I could into his mouth. I didn't stop pressing frantically against his chest again, hoping... praying.

"Don't you die on me you stubborn son of a bitch!" My arms ached from the strain of so much exertion, but I couldn't stop, even as my muscles screamed in agony. I wouldn't stop. Adrenaline pumped through my system, fast and furious, giving me the strength to go on. My lips returned to his, desperately breathing for him as much as I could

"Come on Dean! don't give up on me!" My voice was shaking, openly broken with my tears but I didn't care. Then, so quietly I almost didn't hear it at first as he took the smallest of breaths. The heart beneath my fingers began to pump and thrum weakly, faint but still_ there_. I cried. The relief was tainted, though I needed to get him some medical attention and fast. My left hand cradled him close.

"That's it Dean, breathe. It's going to be okay." His chest rose and fell faintly, lips parting ever so slightly. With my free hand, I scrambled for my phone, dialling as fast as physically possible. My fingers shook, the excess of the adrenaline rush sweeping through my system, leaving me shaky and weak

"911! Yes, ambulance now. Our location is 199 Ebony Crescent road, Bellbriar. Hurry!" My voice was a rush. I hoped to God they heard.

"Hold on Dean. Just hold on a little longer." My fingers swept through his hair gently, reassuring, I thrived on the feel of the weak pulse pressing against my fingers._ Just keep fighting don't give up._ My cheeks were caked with salty tears as I held back a sob. Finally the sounds of sirens cut through the air, loud and final.

"It's okay Dean. You're going to be okay." I held him tight, not wanting to let go. Twin footsteps creaked downstairs. Reluctantly, I let Dean go as the paramedics took over. It was all touch and go they hoisted him easily, supporting him and placing an oxygen mask over his mouth, before sliding him into the stretcher. I gripped his hand tight as we were ushered outside. It was deathly cold out, the wind harsh and unforgiving. I vaguely remembered the kids, making sure to mutter it to the paramedic beside me. He looked confused at first before nodding I couldn't care less at the moment. All that mattered was Dean. I climbed into the ambulance without waiting. The flashing blue lights blinded me. My body was shaking uncontrollably, heart rapidly pressing against my ribs as I clutched his hand in mine. He was so cold compared to me but it was going to be alright. Everything would be alright.

"Don't worry Dean. I'm here." Those hazel green eyes stared at me. The ghost of a smile fluttered across his face before his eyes closed. I smiled, the tears ebbing. Please be okay Dean. I can't live without you.

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**Unknown POV:**

Have you ever felt compelled by something? You don't know what it is, or why it's calling you. It's just there. The same feeling spread through me, causing me to turn and think. Something wasn't right. It was almost like a pull, spreading through me, starting in the core of my Grace and working its way outwards. I was drawn to this pull, this indescribable feeling. Like a moth to a flame, it pulled me in closer and closer and then there was pain.

I had never experienced such a thing before. It frightened me, that is, if fear was an emotion I could understand and feel. The need to move, to go somewhere was taunting, swirling around in my mind like a splinter drilling its way through over and over. Still I could not ignore it. Try as I might, I needed to act. Action as it were, was a profound problem of mine. I had never had a just cause to act first and think later. Yet this need was creating an impulse. I had never been impulsive before. It was strange yet compelling. I would have to pick it apart later for further study.

I felt myself moving, following this urge, allowing it to pull me. The pain was mingling with something else.

My eyes closed almost unconsciously. My actions were beyond me but I had to go on to see this through. With that thought I decided. It meant breaking about a hundred rules, but I could not ignore such an impulse. The others may not understand but then again, I could not expect them to. Not when I could hardly understand it myself. Still, I had decided and I always saw things through till the very end. My lips moved soundlessly as I traced a finger down the map, the impulsive feeling growing, guiding me until my finger stopped on a small town called Bellbriar.

_Bellbriar. _A small smile flickered across my face. Yes that was the place. That was where I must go. With a final smile I was gone. Bellbriar, here I come.

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	3. Clutching at Threads

**Chapter 2! :) This chapter is written by me. The previous chapter was done by Fallen Angel death :D A looot better than my version of the scene haha BTW: Bellbriar is a made up town ^^ lol**

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**Sam POV**

"It's Dean," I choked out. "He's dying Dad. The doctors are saying there's nothing they can do. But they don't know the things we know right? Dean needs you here," I finished. I snapped the phone shut with a sigh. I put my head in one hand, my thumb and fingers against my temple. Tears were leaking into my eyes and they blinked rapidly, tying to hold the back. My palm rubbed against my forehead and I pinched the bridge of my nose between my middle fingers and my thumbs supporting my chin. The water overflowed in my eyes and ran down along my fingers. My eyes shut as a sob burst past my lips.

"Damn-it," I muttered. What was I going to do? I had to find a way to help Dean. All of my life he had looked after me. Hell, he practically raised me!Dad was barely there, but Dean was the opposite. He barely left my side. Dean had been there when I talked for the first time. My first word had been Dean. He was more like a parent to me than a brother when I was growing up.

Now it was my turn to protect Dean. After everything that had happened his own heart seemed to be betraying him now. He was dying. I would never, could never get my head around that fact. Childish hopes that this was just a dream fogged my mind like steam on a window. The fog eased the traitorous knowledge of what was to come in a couple of weeks time.

A matter of weeks. That was all he had. Dean was only twenty-six. He shouldn't be lying on his deathbed. He should have had year, decades definitely. He was to young to die like this. He should be out there now, fighting everything evil out there, what Dad had raised us to do. Instead, he was lying in some hospital bed, breathing his last.

A hunter's life ended bloody, we all knew that. There were no happy endings for people like us. There was no going back to a normal life after the discovery of this life occurred. I had tried it to get away, but I eventually got dragged back into it. There were no options but to fight, and to keep fighting until you were dead, whether it was by a ravenous vampire a wendigo, a shape-shifter or a demon, either way it got you in the end. I

n Dean's case, it was bitter irony. Even he expected to die, though not for years, at the hands of the supernatural. It was terribly ironic that now, he was dying, but not from some mythical creature.

My hands pulled the pages of medical research towards me. Everywhere I looked, it was the same outcome. Dean's death. Medicine had only come so fa. There was no cure for one hundred thousand volts of electricity to the heart. No medicines, no injections and no surgeries could help my weakened brother.

That was why, in the past several hours I had pulled out my father's old weather-beaten journal that he had kept since our mother died. It contained everything he knew about the supernatural, which was a lot. The species, abilities and most importantly, how to kill them. I combed through it thoroughly, searching for any answers. I called several contacts in the journal, explaining the situation we were in. None of the hunters or other people I had called had been of any help to me. The last three people I had called were Bobby Singer, Joshua and finally, Dad. Bobby and Joshua knew nothing of how to help us, and neither of them denied my plea for help.

Afterwards, proceeding the end of the call, I debated whether to call Dad. Would he even care? It didn't seem like he gave a damn about us lately, or if he ever did. He had raised us in this life, not knowing what it could have done to us mentally. He was ruthless on his path for revenge, making us learn to shoot rifles at only thirteen and nine years of age. He had raised us like warriors, not sons. He never taught us normal stuff, like baseball and soccer, saying he was too busy for silly games. Bobby gave us the childhood we desperately wanted and needed. Now Dad wouldn't even answer his damn phone! His eldest son was _dying _and he wouldn't bother his ass to answer. I groaned in frustration. He never gave a damn about us.

My fingers tightened into a fist as I looked up. The fury bubbled inside me. I knew that Dad wouldn't even tun up, if he even listened to the voice-mail at all. My anger propelled itself through my muscles and my fist hurtled forward, punching the wall. I stood there, my head bowed as I breathed deeply to hold back my cries. I sighed. Wished I could help my brother.

**John POV**

I looked at the demon. She glared back, the black eyes glinting as she screamed in pain. Her face was soaked in holy water, burning her skin.

"I'll get you Winchester," she snarled. I smiled.

"I'm sure you will," I said, as if I was talking to Dean as a child. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she snarled again. I began the exorcism, the verse I had said a thousand times in my lifetime, since Mary died and I began to hunt for revenge to kill Azazel. She let out a feral growl as she convulsed in pain. As I finished with a note of determination, the black smoke that was the demon threw itself out of her mouth and up to the ceiling where it burst into flame as she screamed. I almost winced. I was used to it now, but the fire on the ceiling reminded me of that night in November twenty-two years ago now.

_The image never left my mind, of my beloved wife with her stomach slashed open as she let out a silent scream. The fire engulfed her, burning the nursery rapidly. I scooped up my baby son and raced to the doorway to grab Dean and hopefully save Mary, even though I knew she couldn't. Dean was there, his eyes fearful._

"_Daddy?" he asked in a petrified tone._

"_take your brother outside as fast as you can! Now Dean! Go!" I yelled. As I handed the small baby to him. Dean held his brother like he was made of glass and raced away as I turned to find my wife's body engulfed in flames. That was the worst night in my life. _

I sighed. The demon had left the young brunette woman's body. I walked forward, felling a strong pulse beneath my fingers when I checked. I smiled. Her eyes, now a soft pastel blue opened with a flutter.

"Hey," I said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe." She looked terrified, despite my reassurances.

"What was that thing?" she breathed.

"A demon," I answered. Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God," she gasped and tears fell down her cheeks. I untied her from the chair.

"You're safe now," I repeated, as she stepped out of the Devil's Trap/ I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it.

"Come on, lets take you home," I said and she nodded gratefully.

"Thank you," she said tearfully. I nodded. I told her about demons and how to protect herself from them using charms and putting down salt lines.

I dropped the girl of at her apartment. She told me her name was Emma. I told he who I was and gave her one of my phone numbers in case any demons caught scent of here again.

"Thank you so much," she said again. I nodded. I walked back to the car, my hand slipping into my jacket pocket. I pulled out my phone. Eight missed calls from Sam.

Confusion hit me. What could make my son need so badly? Sam was very independent. We hadn't talked in three years. Since Sam had walked out of the front door, after I told him not to come back. I sighed. Sam's leaving had broken my heart. Seeing my son's look of hatred, hatred in those eyes of the boy who I had dragged around with me on hunts and leaving him with a brother, who at only four saw his mother die. I knew I should have been taking them to football games, not teaching them how to shoot perfectly every time. I had brought them up in this life, brought them up wit the knowledge of monsters and demons, preparing them for revenge. My selfish obsession had overshadowed my sense and now it was too late. The damage had been done.

It was with heavy heart that I pressed the button to play the voice-mail. As I expected, I heard Sam's voice come out of it.

"Uh, hey Dad, it's Sam," I heard his recorded voice say. "It's Dean... He's dying Dad. The doctors are saying there's nothing they can do. But they don't know the things we know right? Dean needs you here." The call cut off and the dial tone rang in my ear as I stood in disbelief. Dean... was dying? My stubborn, smart alec, womaniser of a son was going to die? I wouldn't believe it. Dean was smart. How could he have gotten hurt that badly on a hunt?

I raced towards my car and almost shoved my hand into the dashboard as I rammed the key into the ignition. I sped off rapidly towards my sons. I knew it was smarter to stay away, to just observe, but I was damned if I wasn't going to help Dean. He was my son, my flesh and blood.

My mind was whirling, breathing coming out in sharp gasps. My son, the constant fighter, the stubborn man that never gave up. He wouldn't leave Sam's side for a minute when they were young. He looked after Sammy, making sure he had his lunch with him when he went to school, tying his shoelaces for him when Sammy was to little to do it for himself. He was the one who went after bullies that hurt Sam in elementary school and almost beat them to a pulp. I remembered being proud of Dean for taking care of his little brother. As they got older, Sam started to drift away from our way of life and our family. He refused to go on hunts and participate in target practice. All Sam ever did before he left was stay in his room to study I was proud that Sam wanted to be successful in life but one fact would never change. We were hunters, and that was al we were ever going to be. No going back.

The gentle hum of my phones vibration and the sudden blaring of AC/DC's _Highway to Hell _played throughout the car. I picked it up, expecting it to be Sam. I gazed t the caller ID where Bobby's name was displayed. I sighed an answered.

"Winchester," I said numbly.

"John, Sam called," Bobby said.

"I know. He called me too," I cut across him "He told me about Dean, but not much. What exactly is wrong?" Concern for my son raised its head.

"He had a massive heart attack John," Bobby said. My own heart almost stopped.

"He WHAT?" I yelled. "How in the hell did that happen?!" I exploded.

"He accidentally shot a taser that was hooked up to 100,000 volts while hunting a Raw-head and he was standing in a puddle of water," Bobby explained.

"Oh God," the shocked statement left my lips in a shocked whisper. How had Dean made such fatal mistake? He knew what to do on a hunt and to keep a clear head.

"He panicked and acted on instinct John. There's no other reason behind it," Bobby said calmly, but I could still hear the worry. I wasn't really listening. My mind wasn't working right.

"I know that damn-it! I just can't believe this!" I yelled back.

"Don't ya yell at me y'idgit. Are you gonna go see him?"

"Of course I am. The demon can wait." It was probably the first time I had ever said that.

"Good John I was convinced I was going to have to talk you into seeing Dean. Plus I've never heard ya sayin' anythin' like that before."

"Shut it Bobby," I growled. "What hospital are they in?"

"Sioux Falls General, South Dakota. He was moved there from Bellbriar," Bobby replied. I snapped the phone shut, without goodbye and sped up. Luckily I would reach the hospital within six hours, and it was coming up to five am. I should be there by eleven.

_He could be dead by then, _a small voice in the back of my head said and I flinched at the thought.

My thoughts were flashing through my brain in a constant mantra. _Dean, Dean, Dean... _I was so worried about him. I was never the caring father I should have been. Well, I wasn't after Mary died anyway. Before her death, I took Dean to baseball games and for ice cream afterwards. I remembered little three year old Dean grinning mischievously as I ruffled his hair affectionately.

How in the hell had Dean gotten himself into this? Even with Bobby's explanations of instinct and panic, it didn't make sense. Dean always had his wits about him while hunting and he was trained that way, so something like this would never happen. I sighed in sorrow.

Why Dean? Why did it have to be my loveable, energetic brave son? What had he done in life to deserve this? All he had ever done was save people, and this is what he gets? He didn't deserve this. With a taser rigged up to 100,000 volts? He must have been in so much pain. Pain, we were used to, but that sounded agonising. I rubbed a hand over my forehead with a sad sigh. My son, my little boy. Even though I had toughened up over the years, he was still my boy and I would do damned everything to help him and Sammy.

My mind blanked out as I drove, numbness taking a hold as over the next six hours, I got nearer and nearer to South Dakota. My heart began to race as I saw the signs for Sioux Falls General Hospital. I picked up the phone, dialling Bobby's number.

"Yeah John?" he greeted in a gruff tone.

"What surnames are the boys using? And have they new first names?" I asked.

"Nah, still Sam and Dean. They're using Burkowitz," Bobby answered.

"Thanks" I said, and he said goodbye. I shoved the phone into my pocket, taking a deep breath as the hospital came into view. I had always hated hospitals. The times I had been in them were mainly when the boys were too hurt after a hunt. When Sam was fifteen, he had fallen from a small cliff and broken his leg. I could have sorted that out myself, but he had lost a lot of blood.

There were happy times though too. The births of our sons. Mary, pale and smiling, holding a tiny newborn Dean in her arms as he screamed his head off, wailing his small pudgy fists in the air. A small smile tugged at my lips. Dean was always the loud one, even as a baby. He constantly required attention as a toddler. Then, when Sam was born, four year old Dean and I stood around Mary's bed as she held baby Sammy. Dean loved him at once, touching his hands as gentle as a feather. Dean had put his finger in Sam's fist and it tightened into the heat of Dean's small finger, gripping it tight. Dean had looked up at Mary and I with such a proud grin.

"_He held my finger!" _his childish voice echoed in my head.

I swallowed thickly. Those memories were causing pain. Not because Mary was alive at that time, but that Dean was. And after a while, he wouldn't be here anymore if we couldn't find anything, supernatural or not, to help him. He would be nothing but ash. There was no option after a hunter's death but to burn the body.

I entered the automatic doors of the hospital, my heart beginning to pound. Sudden fear took over of what I was about to see. Would Sam be there? Would Dean even be conscious? I sighed as I approached the front desk.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked. She seemed to take in my ragged appearance, seeing my messy hair, my bloodshot tired eyes with purple bags under them. I had not slept all night, just keeping on driving.

"Yes, could you tell me where Dean Burkowitz is please? I'm family," I said quickly, no time for niceties.

"Dad?" I heard a shocked but familiar voice say. I spun around. Sam was there. He was older, and taller than I had last seen him at nineteen. His hair was longer, fringe in his eyes that also held purple shadows from lack of sleep. His clothes were rumpled, as if he had slept in them, which he could have done. He held a cup of coffee in pale fingers.

"Hey Sammy," I said gently. "It's been a long time."

"I didn't think you'd come," Sam said. I looked down. Did Sam really think that little of me? Did he not expect me to assist him to look after his older brother?

"Where is he?" I asked in fear. Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"Come on, I'll show you," he said after a long silence. I followed Sam with a knot in my stomach.

"What exactly happened Sammy? Bobby told me the basics, but what's the rest?" I almost begged.

"Well, Dean and I were hunting a Raw-head and we found a few kids in the house and I brought them out while Dean went to take care of the creature. I got the kids into the car. Then I went to check on Dean. When I saw him he stopped convulsing from the electricity and had no pulse," Sam choked out. My eyes widened. No. Dean's heart had stopped? I felt my hands starting to shake. The uncomfortable feeling in my eyes began as I felt the sudden urge to cry for my son.

"What happened next?" I urged Sam.

"I got him back with CPR and the paramedics came and took Dean here. When I got there, I called the police to collect the children. Once I got that sorted out, Dean had gotten his tests and was in his room. He wasn't awake, and then the doctor told me what his condition was like," he explained, tears beginning to brim in his eyes. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"You did great son," I said. Sam looked a little surprised, but then he smiled a little. We reached a small room. The door was open. I took a deep breath. Already I could hear the rhythmic, yet thankfully steady beeping of the heart monitor.

I walked inside and my face drained of colour. My son lay in the hospital bed, skin almost as pale as the pristine white bedsheets. He had a tube in his nose to help him breathe. There were dark circles under his closed eyes. They were worse than mine and Sam's. His skin looked clammy. His hands lay at his side as his chest rose and fell shallowly. Finally, the tears couldn't be held back, and they slipped down my cheek and a sob came out in a strangled sound.

"Oh God... _Dean,_" I choked out as I walked towards the bed and sat in the plastic chairs. I gazed at my son. I had never seen him look so vulnerable. He looked like he only had minutes left.

"How long..." I trailed off.

"A couple of weeks, maybe a month at most," Sam answered in a stiff tone. I closed my eyes miserably as another tear fell. _God... someone, please, save him.. he's my son._

A small groan sounded from between Dean's lips and and his eyelids fluttered slightly before opening weakly.

"Hey Sam," he said in a frail, croaky whisper. "Dad?"

"Hey Deano," I said gently. "How're you feeling? You in pain?" I asked. Dean chuckled.

"Peachy," Dean said, the sarcasm marred by the weakness of his voice. I frowned.

"Hey Sam, you better take care of that car or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass," Dean smiled a little  
"I don't think that's funny," Sam glared.  
"Oh, come on, it's a little funny," Dean replied. There was a long silence as we thought of our options. Sam looked down, fighting tears. Dean sighed.  
"Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story," he said like he was commenting on the weather.  
"Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options," Sam begged. Dean snorted.  
"What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it," he said in pain. I glared at him.

"Watch us," I said. "We aren't going to watch you die Dean. Not a chance."


End file.
